


Down below the surface (It's a long way down when you're alone)

by targaryen_melodrama



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aquaphobia, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Not Captain America: The First Avenger Compliant, POV Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-08 11:14:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17980271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/targaryen_melodrama/pseuds/targaryen_melodrama
Summary: His first memory of water is how unbearably cold it is, and really, Steve should’ve taken the hint.





	Down below the surface (It's a long way down when you're alone)

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'ed, feel free to point out typos, etc.

Steve’s first memory of water is the cold. The bone-deep, unshakeable cold.

His body was burning up another fever, his Ma was working another shift, and they didn’t have the money to buy medication, even if he could get his body to cooperate.

It’s not—it’s not Steve’s first fever, not the first time his body felt like it was gonna collapse on itself, not even the first time Steve thought he was going to die, but he’d been burning up for hours, and he needed to do _something_.

The first thing, the _only_ thing Steve can think to do is to fill the bath up with cold water, take off his clothes as fast as he can with shaking hands, and get into the bath, chattering teeth and trembling limbs be damned.

It’s not good, but it’s—it’s _something_ , for a moment, until the shivering gets worse, and he can’t—he can’t—Steve’s never been able to breathe that fast, and isn’t the ice supposed to feel _better_?

Things are blurry, and Steve can’t move, can’t breathe, and he keeps hearing his name— _this is, this is it, this is it_ —

“Stevie, Stevie, pal, wake up! Steve!”

“B-Buck—”

“We gotta get you to a hospital, pal, come on!”

His first memory of water is how unbearably cold it is, and really, Steve should’ve taken the hint.

*

Without Bucky there to help him out, you’d think Steve would know better than to throw himself headfirst into water.

The army had taught him discipline and strategy, but not self-preservation. Not yet, anyways.

It’s why instead of letting them have their foolish fun, Steve had decided to talk back to the guys in his unit who’d thrown the same unoriginal insults at him. It’s why his box of belongings had been stolen from him and tossed into the river that ran around the camp.

It’s why he’d jumped in, even though he couldn’t swim, his uniform weighing him down more and more every second.

It’s not the way Steve had hoped it would go: he wanted to have another talk with Agent Carter, and drowning before he’d even had the chance to actually fight made him angry like he hadn’t been in a while.

Steve closes his eyes, like he knows he shouldn’t, and starts reciting a Hail Mary, hoping he can hold his breath for one more second, just _one more second_ , maybe he can—

He almost gasps when he feels himself being pulled up, and does once he’s at the surface. Steve can’t see or hear properly, and only feels an arm around his chest, and legs kicking under his.

In minutes he’s back on the shore, and the second Steve stops feeling nauseous, he looks up. His rescuer is a tall, broad man, with the kind of eyes Steve would’ve loved to draw.

“This is yours, I think,” is the first thing he says as he hands Steve his box. “Are you alright?”

The man looks concerned, and the last time Steve felt that kind of care from someone, he was in Brooklyn.

“Yeah.” Steve’s voice is rough, so he coughs and tries again. “Yeah, I’m alright. Thank you.”

Before the man can answer, they hear an officer shouting. “Jones! Back in formation!”

The man sighs. “I’ve got to go. Be careful out there, alright?” He smiles, and runs back to his unit.

The smile almost makes Steve forget about the cold. Almost.

***

Within a month of being awake, Steve decides to keep two separate notebooks. Things like the Vietnam War and the Rwandan Genocide don’t feel like they belong next to Thai food, so he keeps two separate notebooks, two distinct lists.

Steve is alone in his apartment, watching a documentary on post 9/11 America. One moment, he’s watching a doctor explain how waterboarding works, and the other he’s back at SHIELD headquarters, foreign sounds and voices growing louder and louder in his head until they're unbearable. The only parts of his body he can feel are excruciatingly cold.

_“Captain?”_

_“Captain Rogers—”_

_“Can you he—”_

_“I’m not sure this is the best way to wake him up—”_

_“We’ll do whatever needs to be done, Doctor Cho, and if you can’t—”_

_“He’s choking, he’s choking!”_

_“Captain Rogers—”_

His phone goes off and Steve comes back to the present. He ignores the way his hand is shaking to grab his phone, and is almost ashamed at how relieved he feels when he sees the Assemble notification.

Before he leaves, Steve grabs his second notebook from his desk and crosses off _Waterboarding_.

He hadn’t know the name, but he knows the feeling quite well.

*

The man is impossible not to notice. He keeps the same steady pace every morning, stops by the same tree once he's done. He smiles the same broad, warm smile to the barista who takes his order at the booth across the street from their route.

So it's quite easy for Steve to notice when, on his second week jogging at the Mall, the man trips and falls for some reason Steve can’t see from where he’s standing, across the park with a lake between them.

Steve's feet move without his brain’s approval, and only stop when Steve feels water over his ankles and notices he’s stepped into muddy waters.

Before he steps back, he has a ridiculous vision of the last movie he’d watched at the Tower, where the super-powered little boy had managed to run so fast he could run on water. For a second, he even thinks about trying: the man needs his _help_ , and _—_

_What the hell am I thinking?_

By the time Steve’s made it back to the running trail, the man is back on track, calm, cool and collected like nothing had happened.

Steve doesn’t allow himself to be scared at the lengths he’d go to for this total stranger, beautiful gap-toothed smile or not.

*

 _Never said pilot_ , Sam had said.

Steve watches Sam fly another loop, and is unable to do anything but stand in awe.

When he’d finally gathered the courage to approach him, Steve had been hoping for a bit of flirting at best, and maybe even a nice, gentle conversation so he could prove to himself that he was still able to handle human interaction. What he’d hadn’t expected was this instant surge of attraction, this instant connection, an immediate realization that _this_ is what he’d been missing.

Earlier than Steve expects him to, Sam turns back around and heads down towards him, landing as smoothly as he always does. 

“Want a ride, Rogers?”

Steve’s had weeks of practice, so it’s easy to swallow down his feelings and give Sam the same smile he had that day at the Mall.

“You up for it, Wilson?”

Sam’s grin softens a touch. “Aren’t I always?”

_Yeah. Yeah, you are._

After spending a lifetime frozen below the ocean, Steve could get used to being literally swept off his feet.

*

The moment he’d won, he’d lost.

After bullets and fist fights and stab wounds, after begging and pleading, _Bucky_ had finally looked into his eyes and—

Steve is falling. He’s nowhere close to the ground, he’s nowhere close to the one man who could swoop in and catch him, the man he loves—

It figures. It figures it would end the way it began: with Steve far out of reach, away from the people he loves, and cold to the core.

***

They’re starting their search in Northern California, and after a lot of pressure from Tony and Natasha, Steve finally accepts Tony’s offer to stay at the Malibu mansion when he sees how much the idea of a vacation excites Sam.

After a quiet dinner, he and Sam had decided to enjoy the beach. Steve is slowly walking, waiting for Sam to join him, and choosing to focus on how soft the sand feels and not on how romantic the whole thing looks.

Steve hears the patio door close and Sam whistling as he comes down the stairs. He’s holding something in his right hand, and when Steve notices what, his mood sours almost instantly.

“We can’t be in Malibu and not enjoy the ocean, man. Plus the water’s good, and no one’s here with us. I know you didn’t have much left at your apartment, so I packed an extra pair of trunks that should fit you, let me know—Steve? What’s wrong?”

Of course Sam had noticed something was wrong.

Where to even begin? How’s he supposed to tell someone—to tell _Sam_ —that Captain America is scared of water? That despite how much Steve wants it to, the one thing the serum can’t fix is his history?

“I, ah...I’m—I’m not the biggest fan of water.”

Steve watches Sam’s eyes widen and his face fall, and he curses himself for even saying anything.

“Shit. I hadn’t even thought about that. I’m so sorry, Steve.”

Hadn’t thought about what? Steve had never said— _oh_.

“No, Sam, it’s not—it’s not about Bucky. It’s not just about him. I’ve never...water just brings on bad memories for me. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, Rogers,” Sam sighs. 

It’s scary, how fast Steve makes his decision, and it’s scarier even, that he’s willing to face over a century of fear for one man. But fear hadn’t stopped Steve before, and it isn’t going to stop him now.

“I’ll stop apologizing when you do,” Steve says, deliberately casual as he takes off his shirt.

“Steve. What are you doing?”

“Well,” Steve says, putting on his best mission voice, “water’s good, and no one’s here with us. You afraid, Sam?”

It seems like even a challenge can’t remove the frown from Sam’s face. “You don’t have to do this, you know? You don’t have to prove anything, Steve. Not to me.”

Steve turns away from Sam, knowing he’s only proving Sam’s point, but needing to hide the blush that’s staining his cheeks and spreading down his neck and chest.

“I know.” He swallows, clears his throat, and pushes his shoulders back. “You coming?”

Sam looks at him for a moment, eyes too perceptive for Steve’s comfort.

“Sure,” he shrugs, and Steve lets out a relieved sigh. 

Sam tosses the trunks at him, and turns to change. Steve wants to take his time, tries to psych himself up, but he’s distracted by the fact that Sam is still standing there, waiting.

“Are you waiting for me?” Steve asks finally, hoping Sam’ll go on before him.

Sam raises an eyebrow. “When have I ever let you do anything alone?”

Steve almost blurts out his feelings then and there. _What did I ever do to deserve Sam Wilson?_

With a deep breath, Steve makes his way to the water. He thinks about rushing in, ripping off the band-aid, but Sam’s taking it slow next to him, and it feels better, for once, to take things at his pace. It gets infinitely better when Sam lets his hand brush Steve’s, and Steve grabs it, more grateful than he can express.This, he’s done before: hang on to Sam’s hand for dear life, trusting that the ride’ll be safe because of who’s steering him.

When they stop, the water’s up to his navel. Steve’s hands are sweaty and his heart is beating much faster than it should. Steve’ll never know whether to blame Sam’s hand in his or the water.

The water...the water’s different. It’s not the cold he’s used to, and he isn’t in pain like he usually is when his body’s submerged. There’s even a nice, salty smell in the air, and Steve slowly feels himself go back to the relaxed state he was in when they were inside, cooking together.

“Thank you.” Steve almost doesn’t hear Sam’s voice over the sound of the waves. Their hands are still linked, and Steve loves that Sam’s hand still feels warm and steady in his, even under water.

“For what?”

“For this. Coming in the water with me, and for the vacation. I didn’t think you’d actually say yes.”

“I didn’t want to at first, but you wanted to come, so…”

“So?”

“So we came.”

“That simple?”

Sam seems particularly confused, so Steve turns to him, even though he feels stripped bare, with Sam’s eyes on him like this again.

“For you?” Steve says, ignoring the faint tremor in his voice. “That simple.”

Sam frowns. “Your friend is on the run—”

“You’re my friend, too. Actually, you’re—”

“I’m what?”

 _Shit. Steve Rogers, you fool._ Steve drops his hand, turns away from Sam.

“Steve.” Sam doesn’t hesitate this time, and grabs Steve’s hand outright. “What...what am I?”

“You—you’re my friend, and...you’re the man I have feelings for.”

_You’re the man I love._

They’re both quiet for a moment, and Steve’s never hated the water more than now, the waves louder than they were earlier because of their silence.

“Steve. Steve. Look at me?”

Steve braces himself, prays he hasn’t ruined the one thing he’s got going for him in the 21st century, and turns to Sam again.

“How long?” Sam asks. His voice is much quieter, much less sure than usual. The only thing that keeps Steve going is that Sam hasn’t let go of his hand. Yet.

“I, ah...on your left?”

Sam huffs out a quiet laugh and wipes the tears that had started gathering in his eyes.

“I—same. I feel the same.”

 _What_? Sam—feels...Sam feels? Sam—

“What?”

“I feel the same. I like you, Steve. I have feelings for you.”

“Sam. Sam. _Sam_.” Steve laughs, one part incredulous and two parts overjoyed, and God—if two weeks ago someone had told Steve he’d be laughing in the middle of the ocean, he’d have driven them to a doctor himself.

“If you’re done laughing,” Sam starts, but his smile belies his attempt at mock anger, “I’d like to be kissed, now. If you’re amenable.”

“Sam, I’m so, _so_ amenable.”

“Whenever you’re ready, then, Cap.”

Steve doesn’t have to be told twice.

He cups Sam’s face, kisses his forehead and his nose, like he’s been wanting to for so long. He kisses each cheek, then kisses Sam’s smile, and stays there for a while, even as his hands start wandering down Sam’s arms and back.

They eventually come up for air, and Steve’s last thought before he bends down to kiss Sam again, is that he’d never known water could ever feel good.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by beautiful picture of "Sam and Steve" in the water in the top left corner of this [moodboard](http://yawpkatsi.tumblr.com/post/151200079907/sutherlins-the-otp-list-samsteve-sam) (is that what they're called?) and listening to Ashes by Celine Dion all weekend for some reason. 
> 
> Title from The Water, by Hurts. 
> 
> As always, feel free to leave comments!
> 
> I am on [Tumblr](http://targaryenmelodrama.tumblr.com) if you wanna drop by!


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